


The Revelations

by futagogo



Category: Pocket Mortys, Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Badass Morticia, Creampie, F/M, Fictional Religion & Theology, Filthy, Forced Prostitution, Gratuitous Smut, Heterosexual Romance, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Morty Games, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, One True Morty Religion, Pregnant Sex, Punishment, Shower Sex, Stuck in the wall, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28537683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futagogo/pseuds/futagogo
Summary: When a Morty rebels, damages Citadel property, or refuses to participate in the Pocket Mortys game, the Council sentences him to a severe punishment: serving as a "public toilet" in the Ricks' restroom of the Morty Games arena.This is how Miami Morty finds himself for the umpteenth time stuck in a hole in the wall, his ass at the mercy of the Ricks that patronize the other side.Only this time, another Morty is brought in to suffer the same punishment with him.
Relationships: Miami Morty/Morticia (Pocket Mortys), Miami Morty/Other Ricks (Pocket Mortys), Morticia/Other Ricks (Pocket Mortys)
Kudos: 19





	The Revelations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Satanders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satanders/gifts).
  * A translation of [Les Révélations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11279478) by [Satanders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satanders/pseuds/Satanders). 



> Message from the original author (Satanders):  
> This fanfiction is made up of two chapters, which are separated (in the story) by a small time lapse of a few months. You’ll understand why once you take a look at the tags.
> 
> I did not use the "Underage" warning, as Morticia's age is not revealed, but it is implied that she is about Miami’s age, which is 19 in this fic.
> 
> Message from the translators (futagogo):  
> We hope you enjoy this English translation of another of Satanders' masterpieces. ☆ Get ready for a wet and soul-shaking story~!

It was a punishment for disobedient Mortys. Mortys were docile by nature, but there were always some who caused trouble.

Miami was one of those. He obeyed no one. The Council of Ricks had heard his case—not that he’d even bothered to defend himself, considering the outcome would be the same either way—and had delivered his sentence.

It wasn’t the first time he’d served as a public toilet. It hadn't particularly surprised him to learn that there even was such a service provided in the Citadel—more precisely in the arena for the Mortys Games, a series of savage battles where collectors from across the dimensions came to pit their Mortys against each other until one team was declared the victor.

Miami hated the system and refused to participate in it. Hence, he often found himself here.

He was comfortably installed. Lying on his belly on a kind of soft leather massage table, he had a bottle of water and a tissue dispenser close by. The lower half of his body was on the other side of a wall, his knees also cushioned on leather—likely part of the same piece of furniture he was lying on—and his ankles were strapped to cuffs that prevented him from moving.

That morning, they’d brought in another Morty, this one unconscious, and harnessed her limp, naked body into place before securing the padlock that affixed her to the wall. Miami didn't speak as the Guard Ricks worked, choosing instead to ignore them. Guard Ricks were generally idiots not worth talking to.

Sometimes Miami missed his Rick. But after the mad scientist had run off in search of a legendary Morty egg that he hoped to sell on the black market, no one had seen him since.

Miami would have preferred him to be content with what he had. But sadly, money and glory had always been his Rick's biggest weaknesses.

Once the new Morty was installed, the Guards walked away, leaving the two alone, side by side.

There was nothing interesting to do—this was supposed to be a punishment after all—and Miami hoped his new neighbor would wake up soon so they could chat a bit.

Despite himself, his curiosity had been piqued. He had never spoken to a Morticia before. They were a rarity in the Citadel, and their Ricks generally took better care of them. Suffice to say, they were held in high regard compared to the average Morty.

This one must have had some shit luck, and Miami wondered what she could have done to wind up here. Himself, he had simply stolen a wallet. Again. It was hard to survive in the Citadel without a Rick, and stray Mortys didn’t last long unless they picked up a few tricks. Miami already had some “talents” when he’d arrived in this dimension, and since he hadn’t known what else to do, he’d chosen to stay and put them to use.

He felt hands grab his buttocks. It was his first shift of the morning, and he was still wet with lube. Before being installed, a Nurse Rick made sure that every Morty serving as a toilet was in prime condition to provide the maximum enjoyment to his users.

The bare head of a cock pressed against his anus. He didn’t even bother resisting; it would have been pointless anyway. Instead, he just gritted his teeth to keep from whimpering as the cock slipped into his proffered hole. His painted fingernails dug into the expensive material of the leather cushion as he gripped its sides.

As much as he hated it, his body always ended up submitting. He was, after all, still a Morty. And like any other Morty, he was weak when it came to sex, when it came to Ricks. Weak in the face of their virility, the way they always took what was theirs without asking, their abuse...and especially the size of their cock.

All Mortys loved sodomy, submission and humiliation. Miami was no exception.

He had never slept with anyone other than Ricks. Granted, never with his own. His Rick had never touched him that way, though Miami suspected he must have screwed his fair share of Mortys before. After all, there was something between Ricks and Mortys that made sex better, like they shared some sort of compatibility that existed on a cosmic level. At least, that was what Miami believed. He had reached orgasm with dozens of Ricks, and it still gave him the same ecstatic bliss each and every time. It was so, so good, as if his entire life was only meant to lead up to this pure moment of satisfaction. And when it was over, the hormones would come crashing back down to clear his mind, and he’d hate himself for liking it so much. Because it was horrible, unfair, and degrading.

However, now that he was here, he savored the bitterness and the pleasure as the Rick behind the wall filled his ass with deep thrusts, just the way he liked it.

Morticia woke up to the squeals of Miami next to her. She blinked at him as he bucked in his harness like a wild beast, his long blond hair whipping through the air.

At first, she thought he was struggling, but she soon realized her mistake: he was getting off. Cheeks reddened by arousal, he cried out his pleasure with abandon, offering the grand spectacle of his unrestrained decadence. The undulation of his hips had a hypnotizing effect, and the young girl bit her lip as she felt the heat of desire invade that private space below her belly. She tried to close her thighs, but leather straps held her ankles in place. She was stuck in a hole in a wall.

Before she could even begin to look for a way to escape, she felt fingers caressing her pubic area. Her eyes widened, and she clenched up, making the excess lube spill out of her anus to her slit.

The fingers began to play with her clit, making her stiffen. She wanted to resist, but her eyes fell on Miami. He returned her look and licked his lips wolfishly, then winked at her through the colored lenses of his sunglasses.

A finger made its way into her sex up to the first knuckle. She whimpered, and her body began to quiver. It was the first time anyone had touched her—that a Rick had touched her. Hers had died shortly after their first adventure, and the Council of Ricks had immediately sent her to this dimension. She had fought tooth and nail to regain her freedom, which had earned her a trip here.

She wasn't stupid. She had noticed how the Ricks eyed her when they thought she wasn't looking.

And now one of them was about to take her virginity. She knew he was fingering her to prepare her for what came next. Whoever her grandfather's avatar was behind that partition, he wouldn't hesitate to stick it in. Even her Rick had wanted this; that was the reason why he’d died. A stupid accident when his ship's autopilot malfunctioned while he was licking her privates and massaging her insides with his finger. Regrettable, really.

She was just starting to like him.

Miami gave a shrill cry, then collapsed, panting. He was gorgeous, with his long blond hair framing his blissed out, sweaty face. 

Suddenly, the fingers withdrew from their exploration, and the head of a stiff cock pressed against her entrance.

Morticia tried to stop it from passing, but part of her already wanted to give in. She struggled anyway, just for show, but the Rick kept pressing, until little by little, his cock slipped inside.

She let out a throaty rattle as she was penetrated for the first time. It was painless, or almost painless—barely a slight stretching sensation—despite the hulking size of the member that had invaded her. The penetration was gradual, and the lube was doing its job, letting him sink deeper and deeper into her. She choked on the feeling of the tip prodding her belly when the Rick began to withdraw...before giving her a violent thrust that made his heavy testicles beat against her sensitive labia. He did it again, making her jump in shock. Then gradually, he picked up his pace, pounding her pussy with all the zeal of a galloping stallion.

She had thought she was ready, but nothing had prepared her for the intensity of the assault that rendered her powerless. She was a fragile doll, a puppet whose strings were no longer hers as she endured the mounting pleasure that spiraled completely out of her control. She clawed at the leather beneath her, moaning under the rampantly nearing onslaught, until at last cum spurted inside her like an epiphany.

The Rick emptied himself in her, his balls tight and snug against the steaming heat of her crotch. When he was done, he wiped himself off against her cheeks, gave her a little pat, and left her there, frustrated, her vagina throbbing and filled with cum.

"Are you hurt?” Miami asked, still a little breathless.

Morticia bit her lip, blinking in an attempt to refocus on her prisonmate's face.

“No,” she breathed, her voice hoarse after all that screaming.

“Good to hear.” He straightened up onto his elbows. “So...which hole did he take you in?”

Morticia blushed violently and clenched her fist.

“That’s just disgusting!”

"Sorry to break the news, Princess, but we're here to serve as a public toilet," Miami retorted cynically. “Play the proper lady bit all you want, but I just saw you get off two feet from me.”

He reached out and pinched her bicep playfully. She grabbed his wrist and glared at him.

"I'm not like you," she gritted out. “I’m not here by choice.”

A flash of anger crossed the blond’s features.

“Neither am I. None of us chose this life, but we have to accept it: Once a Rick’s involved, we’re not in control anymore.”

He stopped short, and Morticia watched a shiver run through him. She released her grip.

“Three Ricks in less than an hour? The mornings are usually dead,” Miami growled as if to himself.

He closed his eyes with a moan. Morticia frowned, worried.

“W-what's wrong? Is he hurting you?”

“Ahn!” Miami gasped with a start, eyes closed. “Aaaaah!”

The young girl began to panic, not really knowing why, and tears began to prick her eyes.

“Please, please talk to me!”

She then felt hands on her buttocks. Shocked, she shut her mouth and waited. Fingers caressed her opening, collecting the semen that dripped from it to coat her anus in the sticky liquid.

Mortified by the mixture of apprehension and excitement that gradually overtook her, she hid her face in her arms. The Rick behind her thrust a finger inside her easily, her muscles surprisingly flexible and ready to open at the first brush of contact. She had stuffed mega seeds up there before, so her anus had already been stretched considerably. In fact, her Rick had even taken great care to help her with this task, so much so that now she took three fingers without any apparent difficulty.

She scolded herself for taking any pleasure in this. If only she could tune out what was happening to her, leave her body behind and not have to feel anything. She thought she was different from the other Mortys, less submissive, more resistant.

And yet all it took was a Rick to touch her to make her eager for more. As if she needed it.

Suddenly, fingers intertwined with hers. She lifted her head and met Miami's gaze. He was panting from the thrusts he was receiving behind the partition, but he pressed his palm to hers, staring at her. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and moaned, turning his head away, undoubtedly from the pleasure that was rising in him, the very same that was rising in her.

The Rick behind her rested his cock between her buttocks, then pushed his way in. She relented, squeezing Miami's hand with all her strength. The lubricant slid the hard cock inside, and suddenly she felt full, filled, as if the penis inside her was taking up all the space, going up as far as her throat. She pressed their clasped hands—Miami’s was still linked with hers—against her mouth to stifle a cry. She was shaking all over, but when the Rick started moving back and forth, she followed him eagerly, arching her back to deepen his thrusts. The screams of Miami next to her only inflamed her desire, and she turned her head to watch him—this Morty who was so devoid of modesty, who accepted his humiliation and pleasure with dignity despite everything, proud and detached. She envied him for it. She wished she could be so strong.

Looking at Miami, she realized she had seriously misjudged him.

Indeed, this wasn’t the first time she had seen Miami Morty—or was it Miami Mortys? Was there more than one, just as there might be other Morticias? She hadn't been in this dimension long enough to know for sure. But sometimes she happened to pass by a Rick with a Miami Morty on his arm, or catch sight of a Miami picking the pockets of Ricks in the crowd in front of the arenas.

After the death of her Rick, Morticia participated in the Mortys Games. She had been a member of one of those teams that the Ricks must select upon entering the arena to participate in special tournaments. Her stint had only lasted a short time because she’d tried to run away, but she came out with enough scars and memories to last a lifetime.

Her life had been rough and hadn't prepared her for what she was going through now. But if she thought that her life had been difficult, despite having been surrounded by family or Ricks—even the mean ones—then she could only imagine how much worse it had been for Miami, who had lived on the streets with no one to look after him.

The Rick sodomizing her came inside her and then withdrew. She still hadn't had an orgasm, but she knew it would come, when she got a little used to it. It was only a matter of time and practice.

Miami, meanwhile, had his second of the day. She devoured him with her gaze, and when he had calmed down and they were alone again, she squeezed his hand and whispered:

“I don't want to t-t-talk about that...but maybe we c-can still discuss other things?”

Miami's glossy lips twitched into a broad Cheshire cat grin.

"Whatever you want, milady," he whispered, placing a kiss on the back of the hand he still held in his.

Morticia blushed, much to his amusement. His laughter sounded like the tinkling of a bell.

Their morning passed quietly, despite the number of services they had to perform. Apparently, word had spread of a Morticia in the public restroom, and Miami confided in her that she was likely the cause of the increase in traffic. Indeed, she had noticed that the Ricks particularly favored her pussy; some had even religiously cleaned her with their tongue after ejaculating inside her.

“You’re a rarity,” Miami said. “Most Morticias are docile, and Ricks like to pamper them. I have a running theory on it."

“And what’s that?” Morticia asked, twisting a lock of hair around her index finger.

“Daddy complex,” he declared proudly. “A second chance to take proper care of his beloved baby girl.”

Morticia thought back to her Rick's hand resting on her thigh as he drove, but she didn't have the heart to contradict Miami's theory.

“Where’s your family?” she asked.

Seeing Miami’s face harden, she quickly stammered, “S-sorry, I-I shouldn't have asked!”

He clenched his jaw then gave her a resigned look.

“I dunno. My Rick took me to Miami with him when I was 14. I haven't seen them in years.”

“What, they let you go without s-saying anything?” Morticia asked, taken aback.

Miami shrugged.

“I wanted to go with him. And it's not like they’d miss me anyway…”

The young girl's expression was tinged with such pity that it made Miami uncomfortable. He played with the temple of his glasses while the stubborn craving for a lollipop in his mouth niggled at his mind. Maybe he could ask the Janitor Rick who would come and feed them.

"Aw, don't make that face," he said finally. “I don't miss them that much either. Not often anyway.”

He cleared his throat.

“And you? Where’s your Smith family?”

"My parents are d-divorced." she answered solemnly. “My sister started college a-about a year ago, leaving me alone with mom. The separation...it didn’t go w-well for her. Sh-she, uh, started drinking again and…”

She wrung her fingers, and Miami lay a sympathetic hand on her arm.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks.” There was a slight tremor in her voice.

Seeing as how she wasn’t going to say anything more on the subject, Miami fished around for another topic of conversation.

“Do...do you know any other Mortys?”

“A couple. I was...I was k-kind of friends with a Greaser Morty. We w-were often on the same team d-during the Games. But he was badly i-injured by a Blue Shirt Morty. They took him to the Healing Center, and I never saw him again. It was sh-shortly after that that I tried to escape, but I g-g-g-got caught. I was b-brought before the Council of Ricks, who sentenced me to this—” 

She was interrupted by the door to the room opening with a hiss. It slid into the wall like a spacecraft design, and in entered a Rick in a gray jumpsuit pushing a cart. He was scruffy-looking with spittle drooling from his mouth.

“Hey, Miami. What’d you do this time?” he asked jovially.

“Pickpocketed in broad daylight. I got caught by a Flat Top Rick. He doesn’t mess around.”

"Yeah, well, none of ‘em do," the Rick replied, pulling out some trays that he placed in front of the two Mortys.

His eyes lingered on Morticia who glared back at him as she took her meal tray.

“And speaking of not meeURPssing around. Is it true what they’re saying about you? That when they brought you before the Council, you bit Riq IV?”

Miami lifted his sunglasses, impressed. “You did that?”

The young girl blushed as she fidgeted on her table.

“How was I supposed to know he’s some kind of head honcho? I just thought he had worse fashion sense than the rest.”

The janitor laughed.

“Well, apparently he UUUURP liked it. He paid you a little visit a-a while ago, on the other side of the wall.”

“Hey! You're not supposed to tell us who we serve!” hissed Miami, seeing Morticia flush with embarrassment.

“Sorry, sorry. Yeesh, didn’t know you were such a stickler for the rules!” the Rick said mockingly.

When he pulled a syringe out of a box, Morticia's eyes widened.

“W-what’s that for?”

"It's to defend against potential STDs," Miami explained. “They give you one before you start, one at noon, and one in the evening. Considering the kind of shitholes Ricks hang out in, it’s best not to take any chances.”

“Also acts as a spermicide, even though, at our age, our sperm’s not as fertile as it used to be,” added the janitor, bringing the needle to Morticia's arm.

The girl pressed her lips together, but allowed herself to be pricked.

“See? It didn’t even hurt!” The Rick smiled at her.

He rubbed a small cotton ball soaked in disinfectant against the entry site and then stuck a Hello Kitty Band-Aid over it. Morticia gave him a skeptical look.

“Hey, you got any lollipops?”

The janitor winked at him.

“You know I always carry them with me when you come around, baby.”

He took something out of his pocket and hid his hands behind his back.

“Right or left?”

“Both!” Miami shot back.

“Ha ha, well done, MoEURGHty,” burped the Rick, handing him the two lollipops, one strawberry and the other cola.

Having finished his work, he walked toward the door.

“Now be good children,” he said with a snigger before disappearing.

"What a creep," Morticia whispered.

“Yeah?” Miami stuffed a lollipop into his mouth. “I think he’s nice.”

She was about to reply when a jet of lukewarm water hit her buttocks.

“AH!!!” she cried out with a start.

Her tray was almost knocked from her hands, but she caught it at the last minute.

“I should have warned you.” Miami looked apologetic. “After feeding and vaccinating us, he goes to the other side to clean up and apply more lube.”

“Y-you mean he's going to put his fingers in...” Morticia let her question trail off with a disgusted pout.

“What, you’re down for getting screwed by a dozen Ricks, but not the janitor?” Miami growled, not hiding his annoyance.

“I’m not down for any of this, I’m being forced. There’s a difference,” she scolded.

“So what? Anywhere you go, you’re forced,” Miami spat sharply.

Seeing the effect that had on Morticia, he softened a little.

“Look, it's almost over. Only the second half of the day to go. Most Ricks get plastered after 6 p.m. anyway, which leads to riots. So the arenas always close at that time.”

But the young girl wasn’t listening to him. She had just found a small booklet taped to the underside of her tray.

“What the heck is this? 

“Here, let me see.”

After flipping through it quickly, she handed it to Miami who gave it a cursory glance and gave it back almost immediately.

"He's trying to play a prank on you," he said simply.

“But what exactly is it?”

“A kind of...gospel.” He took a swig of soda from his cup.

"That’s us. The...the Mortys, right?"

“Yeah. It’s just some hokey religion Mortys at the end of their rope came up with to feel better,” Miami grumbled. “Basically, it says that one day The One True Morty will be born, a Morty so powerful that he'll bring down all the Ricks and free the Mortys from their cruel oppression.” He scoffed. “Like that could ever happen. Pathetic.”

Morticia didn't comment and began to read, trying to take her mind off of the inquisitive fingers that had started to rummage inside her sex, coated with a viscous, warm gel.

At the end of the day, Miami answered the question Morticia had been asking for a while.

“They like to punish us, but at the same time they feel guilty. That's why even though the treatment is horrible, the food is still good, and they make sure that we’re comfortable and all that. It's only half-punishment. Plus, we’re providing a service to society, so everybody wins. A satisfied Rick is a Rick who consumes, and there’s nothing the Citadel loves more than consuming Ricks. That's what these Games are for. We’re just another cog in the machine. And as long as we, the rebellious Morties exist, they can exist too.”

“W-what are y-you s-s-saying? That by rebelling, we serve their interests?” stammered Morticia, confused.

“You got that right, Princess! No one can really escape the system. Even the Ricks are prisoners of it. I’d know; my Rick tried to get out, and in the end he probably got roped into this stupid Morty hunt.”

Bitterness had managed to seep into his voice, and he fell silent. He hadn't intended to make friends with Morticia, despite the fact they got along so well. At first glance, she was cold and straightlaced, but she seemed to know when to yield. Before long, they’d hit it off.

He wasn't the type to dote on anyone, but being one of the oldest Mortys in the Citadel, he served as a sort of point of reference, especially for situations like this. How many times had he comforted a Morty disguised as a Sexy Devil who was getting fucked from behind for the first time and crying his eyes out? How many times had he carried a Mini Morty on his shoulder to help him cross a crowded street? How many times had he given bread to a hungry Hobo Morty in an alleyway?

He was not a good person, he knew that. But he certainly wasn't a piece of shit like the Ricks. Sometimes he was touched by the plight of his brethren.

Still, it wasn't pity that made him attached to Morticia. It was a particularly unexpected development, one that warranted a closer look but that he dared not grant; he feared he already knew exactly what it was.

“I'm sure he'll come back for you,” Morticia said gently, taking his hand.

Feeling the tears rise to his eyes, Miami blinked several times in an attempt to clear his vision and gave Morticia a crooked smile meant to fool her. But he saw it clearly wasn’t working. She squeezed his hand in silence, and they stayed that way, until the guards came to release them, thus signaling the end of their punishment.

They were taken to the showers. When Morticia took off her T-shirt, Miami turned pink, even though they were already half-naked and covered in dried spunk and sweat. He suddenly felt awkward and stupid.

“This is where we washed, me and the other Mortys.” Morticia stepped under the showerhead, the bottle of shower gel provided by the guards in her hand.

He averted his eyes as he turned his back to her and finished undressing, unaware of the furtive glances she was casting his way. She took in his slim, lean musculature, nothing like that of a Turbulent Juice Morty or even a Karate Morty. Miami was made for dancing, all grace and slender curves, his long hair cascading like a golden mane over his tanned shoulders that were peppered with glittering freckles. At first, Morticia thought it was makeup, but it actually looked painted onto his skin.

Letting her gaze fall lower, she then saw his tattoo: an R stamped on one of his buttocks, like the mark of a branding iron. She wondered about the origin of this tattoo. Had it been voluntary? Or was it another punishment inflicted by frustrated Ricks trying to degrade him when sexual servitude failed to?

Just one year in, and her body was littered with scars. Miami’s was practically spotless by comparison, a dead giveaway that he hadn’t had to endure the Mortys Games. However, something told her that he probably had his own share of trauma.

After all, unlike her, he seemed to be punished regularly, meaning he had been living like this for a long time.

She would have liked to ask him more about his Rick, but she didn't dare. She suspected it was a sensitive subject.

Abruptly, she realized she was getting wet. And not because of the semen still leaking from her pussy or the fact that she was in the shower. No, this familiar feeling of warmth that settled between her thighs couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, as it made the tender flesh of her vulva pulsate pleasantly.

Since Miami wasn’t looking at her, and had even made a point of turning his back toward her, she slipped a hand between her thighs. If he turned around and looked, she could always pretend she was trying to clean herself out from the inside.

She stroked her clit, gently gauging its sensitivity, and it reacted so intensely, she choked out a moan. She slid her finger down and traced the entrance to her vagina. There was a scorching wetness there that urged her to slip into it, but she didn't. She gently massaged around the area and teased her clit, gliding the pad of her middle finger between her inner lips, before closing her eyes. Her other hand moved up to her breasts where she pretended to smear on shower gel, even as she took the opportunity to play with one of her nipples. The situation couldn’t be any more exciting: Here was this beautiful young man next to her, completely naked, and she imagined him desiring her, reverently kissing her breasts, her stomach and, kneeling before her, lapping at the sweet nectar of her pussy.

Her breath quickened, and she slowly slipped a finger up to the knuckle into her entrance, still tight despite the many fucks it’d received earlier.

She opened her eyes again, only to find Miami looking straight at her. She dropped her gaze immediately embarrassed, but that didn’t help matters at all: She saw Miami's cock standing proudly against his flat stomach. It was long and slender, the circumcised pink glans contrasting sharply with his tanned skin.

Morticia vaguely wondered what it would be like to have him inside her. That idea alone sent a rush of desire through her that made her shiver from head to toe. She wanted nothing more than to touch him. His skin looked so satiny soft.

“Morticia?” Miami murmured, shaken by the attraction radiating from her and that he blatantly felt for her in turn. He was already rock hard despite all the sex he'd had that day.

She was completely naked before his eyes. Her milky skin was dotted here and there with moles and pale scars; her long, wavy brown hair fell in damp ringlets to her breasts, small as apples but creamy-smooth. He imagined her tiny, hard nipples rolling under his tongue as he suckled them, kneading her breast with one hand, while the other stroked the silky down of her pussy, slowly inserting a finger inside...

As if reading his mind, she took his wrist and guided his hand between her legs. He gasped as he felt how hot she was there. A furnace of pure desire.

"Morticia," he said again in a low voice.

She took a step towards him, and suddenly they were against each other.

"Morty," she moaned, her eyes pleading.

Unable to resist, the blond leaned down and kissed her quivering lips. She leaned more against him, trapping his erection between them and squeezing her thighs around his hand.

She was still pliable, and he was able to insert two fingers at once. Her arms wreathed his neck as she hungrily deepened their kiss.

Miami pinned her against the wall, forgetting all about the jet of water spraying down on them. He wanted her, her pussy, wanted to wrest an orgasm free of shame from her; to do it with a woman who wanted him as a real man and not merely as a sex toy, meant to be fucked and then cast aside.

He lifted her leg and guided his cock against the bush of brown pubic hair. He fumbled for her slit and, once finding it, sank into her like a hot knife through butter.

She keened and wrapped her legs around his waist, hanging from his neck. He slid his cock inside her, working her slowly, modestly. She was hot on his cock, hot and tight, like it was her first time. And it was.

"You're going to find this completely crazy, but I think I fell in love with you the minute you opened your mouth," he would have whispered if he hadn't been afraid that she would reject him for this ultimate weakness, this ridiculous moment of sentimentality that made him forget his usual cynicism. He was again the 19-year-old teenager he was meant to be: young, fiery, naive.

She tensed around him and called out his name. He would have feared being heard if he weren’t already overwhelmed by his approaching orgasm. The kind that consumes all else and strikes both lovers simultaneously, the kind which is so rare with the Ricks, yet so natural here, with her. They’re so similar. They’re the same person. And at the same time, unique.

A pure miracle.

The Guard Ricks stormed in, but it was already too late. They were pulled apart, Miami’s seed oozing down Morticia’s thighs. She struggled, and the Ricks all started yelling at the same time, surrounding Miami in a storm of threats. He was subdued in no time, combat not being his strong point, and he quickly fell to the floor. Morticia screamed, spat, bit, and scratched in every direction, but still they managed to drag her away.

Miami sank into the abyss of unconsciousness, his eyes fixed on the small religious pamphlet dissolving in the water on the shower tiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the English translation of Chapter 1 of [Satanders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satanders/pseuds/Satanders)' marvlous ["Les Révélations"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11279478) fanfic.  
> Chapter 2's translation should be coming out before the end of the month. Until then, take care and enjoy~!


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